


Over The Dying Flames

by Kissed_by_Circe



Series: Some Things Blossom In The Dark [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Beta Wanted, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissed_by_Circe/pseuds/Kissed_by_Circe
Summary: „So, the flower girls are annoying Rickon to the point where he looks like he’ll straddle them if they say one more word, the bride somehow managed to throw up in her bouquet, and someone’s trying get into to the brides-maids’ panties…”Arya’s getting married, Sansa’s been through a rough breakup, and neither Jon nor Sansa know about how the other feels about them.





	Over The Dying Flames

**Author's Note:**

> Sansa is 31, Jon 34, Arya 28 and Gendry is 33. Gendry’s and Arya’s daughters, Aly and Danny, are 5 and 3 years old.

„So, the flower girls are annoying Rickon to the point where he looks like he’ll strangle them if they say one more word, the bride somehow managed to throw up in her bouquet, and _someone_ ’s trying get into to the brides-maids’ panties…”

 

“Ok. Ok. _Ok_.” Sansa’s voice is all silk and honey, but there’s a trace of steel hidden in it, he thinks, and she may look calm and sweet right now, but he wouldn’t dare say no to her. Her little sister’s getting married, and Sansa decided to take over the role of wedding planner. Which means that he, as best-man, has to help her as much as he can, a task that’s rather pleasant, he thinks, especially in moments like this, when she looks at him with a pleading look in her round, sapphire blue eyes.

 

“Jon, sweetheart, could you try and get Aly and Danny under control? Mom wanted to look after them, but there’s been a problem with the catering… I’ll have to look after Arya and frighten Theon into behaving like a normal wedding guest, so could you…?” His heart flutters at her calling him ‘sweetheart’, and he has to remind himself that she’s 1) his best friends’ sister, 2) dating Harry Hardyng, 3) way out of his league.

 

She’ll be engaged by the end of the year, he’s sure of it, if Harry hasn’t asked her yet. They’ve been dating for almost a decade now, and everyone knows that Sansa wants nothing more than a family of her own. He even overheard the bridesmaids’ plotting, with Wylla and Bella trying to talk Myrcella into helping them kick everyone out of the way when Arya throws the – now puke-drenched – bouquet, so that Sansa can catch it.

 

Sometimes he fantasises about her – Sansa decorating an apartment they bought together, wearing his grandmother’s engagement ring, smiling at him as he lifts her veil, pressing his hand to her swollen belly, singing a redheaded toddler to sleep – but he knows that this won’t ever be. She’ll have all that with Harry, she’ll wear a Hardyng diamond and have golden-haired babies and live in a house on the beach somewhere in the Vale.

 

“Of course, doll. If you need anything else, just ask.”, he says with a smile, noticing how on edge she is today, before he makes his way over to the room where the brides-maids and the flower girls are supposed to get ready for the ceremony, only to be stopped midway by the groom. “Jon. There you are. The bride asks you for some favours.” “Ok, what should I do?” “We’ll need you to take care of Sansa – I know, we all know that you’re looking after her already, and that you do your best to support her and take over some tasks, but I mean… it’s horrible for her.

 

She’s happy for us, I know that, but it also pains her, because – Harry broke up with her.” “What the-?!”, is all Jon can manage to choke out, because he’s too shocked to even register what he just heard. Sansa fucking Stark got _dumped_? How stupid can that Harry bloke be? “I’m not going to tell you all the details, but they ended things two days ago, and she’s somehow keeping it together _for now_ , but once we return from our honeymoon she’ll have a break-down.” Gendry sighs and runs a hand through his hair, looking the most tired Jon’s ever seen him.

 

“If you’d just… stay by her side and support her, that’d be great. Distract her a little, maybe.” Jon just nods, and relief washes over Gendry’s face. “Thanks, mate, you’re the best-” The relief leaves his face when Rickon barges into the room, carrying his two nieces over his shoulders and growling like Godzilla, and Jon quickly runs over to him before someone gets mutilated, _again_.

 

* * *

 

 

“There you are, doll. Was looking for you for hours.”

 

His tone his serious, but his deep, husky voice and the way his mouth curls around the word ‘doll’ make her knees go weak. She’s glad that she’s already sitting on the floor when she looks up and sees him leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, dark curls gleaming in the light of the bonfire.

 

She wonders what he must think of her, when he sees her sitting on a porch far away from everyone else, her flats lying next to her, her bare feet tugged under her long, flowing silk dress, and if he can see the puffiness of her eyes. “You look cold.”, is all he says, and he takes of his jacket and lays it on her shoulders. It smells of him, of Ghost, of smoke. She buries her nose in the collar and inhales the scent.

 

For a moment, she allows herself to dream, of a world where Jon Snow is in love with her, where they live in an airy apartment with stucco ceilings together, where he makes breakfast for her, where they get a huge fluffy dog from a shelter, where they have children with his dark grey eyes. But he’s not, because he’d never look at her and see her as anything other than Arya’s sister and Gendry’s best friend. She’s dated Harry for ten years and now she’s over thirty, single, with a bad taste in men, crying at her sister’s wedding with snot dripping down her nose.

 

“It’s a wonderful wedding, you outdid yourself, doll.”, he murmurs, looking around – the wedding party is held in the middle of the forest, in a small clearing surrounded by a few wooden cabins and trees tall enough to reach the stars, with a bonfire and an overall bohemian vibe that’s perfect for Arya and Gendry – and she nods, not trusting her own voice.

 

“Arya told be that you’d babysit the girls during their honeymoon. I’ll help ya, if you want me too. They love Ghost.” His attempt at small talk is nice, she thinks, and she’s sorry when she starts to cry at his words. He looks so helpless – as if he’d do anything to make her smile again, but doesn’t know how. His dog would look at her just like that, she thinks, but unlike his dog, Jon can hug her and hold her thigh, which he does.

 

“I- I’m so- so sorry”, she sniffs into his neck, “but Harry broke up with me- because of that.” Jon rubs circles onto her back, and whispers sweet nonsense, but when he hears Harry’s name, he freezes and pulls away to look at her with wide eyes. “Because of what? The babysitting?” There’s snot under her nose, and she pulls out a handkerchief to wipe it away, cringing because it’s so gross, before she shrugs and tells him.

 

“I told him that they would live with me for two weeks, and he said that he hated that arrangement. And then we talked about _us_ , and the fact that we’re not living together, and that he doesn’t want to have children with _me_ , and that I want to marry and he doesn’t – and then we broke up.” She sniffs, and whispers, almost too quiet for him to hear, “I’ll never marry, or have children.”

 

He pulls her flush against him, and holds her as close as he can while she cries into his shoulder. He’ll punch Harry in the face, the next time he sees him, he promises her, and she smiles at that, a sad little smile that makes his heart break.

 

* * *

 

He scoops her up and carries her towards the bonfire as if she was the bride, and they dance like that, her shoes forgotten on a porch somewhere. When the mist starts rising, they jump over the dying flames, and Sansa lands in his arm. She kisses him, all teeth and passion and fire, and they stumble into her cabin in a flurry of silk and crimson hair and naked skin.

 

* * *

 

The bride spends her wedding night hunched over the toilet while the groom rubs her back.

 

Her sister spends it writhing and moaning under Jon’s lips.

 

* * *

 

A little over six months later, at the hospital, over the head of an auburn-haired, screeching babe, he asks her to move in with him, and she almost drops her youngest niece when she kisses him.

 

They get married two years later, at the same clearing as her sister, and Sansa, just like Arya, spends her wedding night throwing up.

 

She meets Harry again, years later, while dropping their (dark haired, grey eyed, adorable) twins of at kindergarten, but she doesn’t look at him twice.


End file.
